


Pretty Perfect

by agoodpersonrose



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Drinking, First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Injuries, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24928918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agoodpersonrose/pseuds/agoodpersonrose
Summary: David Rose is a distracting man; he's funny, and charming, and attractive, and who can blame Patrick for daring to dream?
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Stevie Budd & David Rose
Comments: 58
Kudos: 234





	1. Chapter 1

Patrick is distracted again. It’s become a regular thing in the two weeks since opening night; he goes to work intent on focusing and getting everything done, and by the afternoon he is zoned out, staring at David interacting with customers, or restocking shelves, all the time sending over small smiles in his direction.

It’s torturous, and it’s perfect, and it’s not enough.

When Patrick first met David, he had no idea what he was feeling; his compulsion to be close to a male friend was not a new feeling to him. He had been toying with his sexuality ever since he broke it off with Rachel for the final time, but he had had no idea how strong his feelings would be when faced with a man he was attracted to in such close contact.

He had teased and joked his way into a friendship and eventually business partnership with David. Some (Stevie) called it flirting, and Patrick supposes she might not be wrong, but he’s not going to jump into bed with him and ruin all the progress they have made in setting up the store and creating a successful ‘retail environment’ out of nothing.

They’re a team, and Patrick won’t do anything to ruin that for David. He knows how sensitive his friend is, he knows his history with men such as Sebastien, as well as business managers such as Eli. David has been messed around too many times and Patrick refuses to be another man who takes advantage without knowing what he truly wants.

But God, Patrick wants. It started small; he wanted to listen to David talk. David has such great ideas, he’s creative and intelligent, he’s witty, and he’s got this sharp sense of humour that matches with Patrick’s easy teasing perfectly.

But then, he’s also attractive. All sharp edges but soft lines; the perfect amalgamation of every appealing aspect of a person. Patrick can’t help but stare. David flitters through life anxiously, but also passionately, and there is nothing about his appearance that is boring. Everything from the smile-line around his eyes (that David would be horrified to know about), to the dimples on his cheeks, to the irresistibly soft fabric of his various sweaters that Patrick can’t stop thinking about ever since their hug those short weeks ago.

With David, Patrick can’t understand how he managed so long traipsing through relationships with women. He could never go back now, after knowing him, and catching a glimpse of what his life could be. David brings passion to Patrick’s life, excitement, amusement, fondness. Many of which he had felt before are completely blown out of proportion by the other man’s presence.

So, Patrick is distracted again, because David is putting lip balm on. Peering thoughtfully into the small mirror on the counter as he drags his finger across his bottom lip efficiently.

He’s so distracted, in fact, that he drops a glass bottle of body milk and watches as it smashes on the ground at his feet, leaving a heavy silence in the store as David looks at him from behind the counter.

“Um, are you okay over there?” He asks, frowning and looking at Patrick with concern, who still hasn’t moved and is simply looking down at his feet with a vacant expression on his face.

David’s voice snaps him back to life, and he looks up nervously. “Sorry,” he says, wincing and moving to get the broom. “Maybe don’t come over here until I’ve cleaned up all the glass.”

David does as he’s told and watches as Patrick carefully picks up and removes the pieces of glass into a rolled-up ball of old newspaper, and then gets a cloth to clean the product from the wooden floors. He is almost finished when his index finger on his left hand comes into contact with something sharp. He hisses and holds it up in front of his face, watching as blood bulbs out of the wound.

He straightens up, heading over to collect a tissue which draws David’s attention, who is immediately clucking at him disapprovingly as he takes over on the first aid and administers a disinfectant wipe and then a plaster to his finger.

Patrick’s attention is focused on all the places where David’s hand is connected with his. His skin is warm and soft as he uses his laser-focus to wrap the plaster around his nail. Then, he’s lifting it to his mouth almost absent-mindedly, and laying a small kiss on the tip.

“Oh,” Patrick breathes, watching David through his eye lashes as he immediately let’s go of his hand and steps back slightly.

“Sorry,” David says, wincing, “That was- Reflex. Alexis used to- She used to demand it whenever she’d hurt herself and I guess I haven’t been putting plasters on anyone else.”

He’s blushing furiously, which makes Patrick feel guilty, but he also gains some enjoyment in seeing the heat rise up David’s face.

“Thank you, David.” He says softly.

“Well it’s- you’d do the same for me. Although maybe not the, kissing. I don’t know- Maybe you would, hopefully we’ll never find out. Not about the kissing- Well, I mean, hopefully I don’t injure myself.”

Thankfully he is brought out of his misery by the bell over the door clanking and Stevie enters, making a bee-line to the counter with a bag of strawberries in her hand. Patrick makes his exit to go and finish cleaning the mess still on the floor, whilst David turns to his friend.

He does his best not to listen; he likes Stevie, and he likes to think that they are friends too, but she has some sort of deep understanding with David and he is well aware that they sometimes communicate almost in a different language.

Despite his attempts to not eavesdrop, he is soon enough dragged into the conversation.

“Are you in, Patrick?” She asks, just as he is heading back towards the bin under the counter to throw away the rubbish.

“Hm? In for what?”

“Tonight, I thought it would be fun to have a night on the town for once. The Wobbly Elm, perhaps?”

“I told her we shouldn’t.” David says, as if trying to protect Patrick from the awkwardness of turning down the offer. “I know we have work tomorrow and you always come in to open so it wouldn’t be fair for me to go and get drunk.”

“Perhaps, but if Patrick also drinks then you have nothing to feel bad about, do you David?”

David is glaring at her, and Patrick is pretty sure he’s missing something, but he lets it go with a shrug. “You’re allowed to go out, David. I don’t control your social life. Technically you’re my boss, remember?”

David frowns, “We’re partners.” He says, almost sadly. “Which reminds me, we need to sort the paperwork out for that. Another great reason why we shouldn’t be going out and getting drunk on a work night.”

Patrick chuckles at that, shaking his head, but Stevie just narrows her eyes.

“Oh my God, fine!” He says, after a moment of silent conversation with her.

“Great, Patrick, you’re coming?”

It was less of a question really, more of a demand, but Patrick nods regardless. “Sure, looking forward to it.”

She leaves with the strawberries without waiting for them to cash it up and gives a final cheeky wave from the door.

***

_David’s really hot._

His neck is really long and taut, and it’s all on display as he throws back his head to take a shot.

They have been at the Wobbly Elm for a couple of hours. It started tame, but it is a Friday night, and soon enough the bar filled up as much as it could considering the population of the town, and the music was turned up, thumping through the room loudly.

And David is _hot._

It’s not all Patrick can think about; he’s also thinking about how funny David is. Stevie has long since disappeared to a corner of the bar with a tall, dark-haired man, and for a moment Patrick was afraid that David would follow suit and find someone to slink into a shadowed corner with. But instead, he had swivelled himself on his chair so that he was better facing Patrick and leaned in to talk to him.

“I think I made things awkward.” David slurs slightly as he swallows his drink and waves to the bartender for another. He is drinking far more than Patrick, who is only feeling lightly buzzed enough to lean into David’s small breezes of contact. But assumedly his tolerance will be higher, so Patrick doesn’t comment.

“What?” He replies after realising he had been sat in silence for a moment too long.

“Earlier, I shouldn’t have- your finger.”

Patrick chuckles, “I think we can make it through that, David.”

“I know,” David drawls, still pulling a wince, “But it was so weird of me. From me. You know? And I was all like, you’d do it to me. Like I wanted you to do it to me. Not that specifically, I don’t want little scars on my hand.”

Patrick has completely lost track of the conversation and just nods as if he understands. Maybe he’s had more to drink than he thought, David definitely has.

Stevie re-appears then, leaning over to take David’s new drink and downing it in one shot before pushing him over to let her share his stool with her.

“Wow, you’d better not breathe near any open flames, David.” She says, waving a hand in front of her nose dramatically. “How much have you had?”

“You were the one who wanted us to drink!”

The bar has thinned out, most people heading home for the night, and Patrick suddenly realises the time. He has been sat talking to David for over an hour now without Stevie.

“Why aren’t you going home with hot bar hunk?” David is asking, wiggling his shoulders and jostling Stevie enough that she almost falls off the chair.

“Who needs to go home when there’s a bathroom right there?” She asks simply.

David pulls a disgusted expression and jumps off the stool. “Gross! I’m not sharing a seat with you now that I know that!”

“What, David. Are you _jealous?”_

“No.” He says, moving round to stand next to Patrick who naturally shifts to make room for him so that their shoulders are bumping.

“Admit it, you’re jealous because I spent the night with the hottest guy in here.”

Patrick holds his breath waiting for David’s response. The guy Stevie was with was very attractive he supposes, however David was hotter, so he didn’t really think twice about it. “That’s not true.”

Both Stevie and David snap their heads round to look at him.

“What did you just say?” Stevie asks, looking overjoyed.

“N-Nothing. Just- Not true.”

“Oh, so I’ve made you both jealous then? That’s what’s happening here.”

David frowns again and pulls a disgruntled face. “Nobody is jealous of your gross bar hook-up, Stevie.”

“You thought he was hot though didn’t you, David.” She insists, and Patrick is more than ready for this conversation to be over, so he leans over the bar to pay their tab.

“He’s not pretty though.” David replies quickly. “Like, objectively, he may have been hot. But I was with a pretty guy, so--”

“Pretty?” Patrick asks, taking his receipt and turning back to them.

“Like, _objectively_.” David continues, waving a hand around.

“You think I’m pretty, David?”

They are all standing and walking towards the doors, and he says it so casually that it seems to put David at ease.

He puts an arm around Patrick for support when he stumbles, one of his arms reaching up to pet the back of his head fondly. “You’re very pretty. Pretty Patrick, pretty, pretty Patrick.”

Stevie snorts as they clamber into the taxi, but Patrick just gazes at David who has squished into the middle seat, leaning far closer to him than to Stevie, who keeps jabbing him in the side when he gets too close.

Patrick lifts his arm to accommodate David who is plastered to his side at this point.

“Pretty Patrick.” He’s still mumbling, frowning slightly as if thinking hard.

“What about me?” Stevie asks.

“Mean Stevie.” David says, “Nasty Stevie.”

“They don’t have alliteration!” She exclaims.

“Sarcastic Stevie.” Patrick mutters, earning a snort from David and beaming at that reaction.

“Dick David.”

David gasps at her and looks genuinely upset at the nonsense that they’re spewing into the quiet taxi.

“Pretty David.” Patrick mumbles, resting his forehead against the other man’s shoulder and closing his eyes as the exhaustion finally hits him.

“That’s not--”

“Pretty David.” He insists.

He must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he knows he’s being pulled out of the car by a very sober Stevie. The nap has helped clear his vision and his head, but he’s still blinking sleep out of his eyes as he is shoved towards Ray’s house.

“Go on lover boy. Are you going to be okay getting inside or do you need help?”

“I’ve got it, I have the keys.” Patrick replies sleepily, patting around his pockets to pull out his baseball keyring and wave it around in her face. “What about David?”

“Alright tiger, I don’t think either of you are in the right state for that tonight.”

“I didn’t mean- I wasn’t going to--”

“He’s still asleep right now, but I’m going to drop him off at the motel. Go on, go in, I’ll wait until you’re in but you’re paying me back for this taxi fare.”

Patrick salutes teasingly, “Understood.” He says in a deep voice as he trips up the stairs to the front door. He finally gets it open and waves from the porch to Stevie before climbing up to bed and flopping straight down on it with a sigh.

He tosses and turns, but suddenly he can’t sleep. He still has alcohol running through his veins and it makes him brave. He sits up and tugs his phone out of his pocket; it’s just past 2am, and he supposes David must be asleep by now. But he’s suddenly overcome with a desperation to talk to him again.

His phone pings with a text before he gains the courage to call David.

**Are you awake?**

**Stevie said she dropped you home. I hope you got home to Ray okay.**

_I got home okay, David. Did you get home okay?_

**I did.**

A couple of moments pass before David sends another message.

**I meant what I said today. I think you’re very pretty.**

_Thank you, David. I think you’re pretty too._

**No.**

_No?_

**I think you’re hot.**

Patrick pauses, his thumbs shaking over the keyboard as he blinks desperately at his phone.

**I think you were the hottest guy in there. Stevie can boast all she likes because she didn’t actually get to make out with the hottest guy there.**

_Yeah?_

**But I didn’t get to either.**

_What do you mean?_

**I wanted to make out with you tonight.**

Oh. Shit. Patrick almost drops his phone in surprise as that text arrives. His heart rate speeds up, and the alcohol still muddling his brain encourages him to continue pushing for answers.

_Just tonight?_

**Every night. All nights.**

_Why don’t you?_

**Because I don’t know if you would want that, and I don’t want to do that to you.**

Before he can type out a response, his phone is ringing with David’s contact. He quickly picks up and holds it to his ear cautiously.

“Hello?”

“Patrick.” David’s tinny voice fills Patrick’s ear. He can hear David’s breaths coming rapidly and tries to calm his own down.

“David, how drunk are you?”

“I mean, yeah, a little. But it’s not like drunk as in I’m saying random things, it’s drunk as in I’m saying things that I would usually just think- That I wouldn’t want to say out loud because I’d be too scared.”

“I want- I- Me too, David. I want- All the time, too.”

“Really?” David’s voice is thick, and he’s so clearly crying that Patrick is desperate to reach out and hold him. “I thought I was being- I thought I was imagining everything.”

“You’re not imagining anything, David. I- I always want to- With you.”

There’s a couple of moments of silence as they both breathe in the news. There’s something like relief filling Patrick’s stomach, but also nerves; a fear of what he has to do next, of how he has to act, of what he’s going to say.

“I had a really nice night tonight, Patrick.” David whispers finally.

“I- Me too, David. But I’m still- We drank a lot tonight. Can we talk about this tomorrow?”

“I- Yes. We can talk whenever you’d like. Maybe not early tomorrow though since I think we’re both going to be a little hungover.”

“Yeah- Yeah, that’s a good call. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Goodnight Patrick.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after.

The knocking starts far too early.

David jerks up from his motel bed, and groans towards where Alexis should be, except her bed is empty, and he’s alone in the room.

That also means he’s alone to open the door to the potential serial killer or Mormon who would actually go to a motel and knock on the door.

Who would even do that?

It turns out Stevie would do that, as David discovers when he finally throws himself out of the bed, dodges a pair of shoes lying on the floor, and opens the door to find her leaning against the door jam, looking far too pleased with herself.

“I was wondering if you were alive.” She says as he glares at her, eyes squinting against the early morning light.

“What are you talking about, it’s not even- _it’s eight am!_ What are you doing here?” He exclaims, immediately wincing at his own noise.

Stevie doesn’t even bother to look ashamed with herself. “Well, I got into work this morning, and I thought, what sort of friend would I be if I didn’t check on you after last night.” She looks him up and down and smirks again at his rumbled outfit and bed-head. “You’re looking _very pretty_ today.”

At that, David immediately flushes crimson, and shakes his head at her passionately. “Nope, no. I’m not discussing that with you right now.”

He goes to close the door on her, but she sticks her foot through before he gets the chance.

“Have you spoken to Patrick yet?”

“Clearly not.” David gestures down to his entire self with a look of distain, “Does it look like I’ve spoken to Patrick yet?”

She hums and tips her head to the side.

“What?”

“Well, he texted me this morning asking about you.” She says, looking away as if reluctant to give any more information.

“Okay- what. What was he asking?” David stutters out, wrapping his arms around his chest defensively.

“Just asking if I’d seen you yet, and whether I knew if you’d had breakfast.”

“What did you tell him?” He asks, urgency brimming as his brain catches up with the conversation.

“The truth. He said he’d go and fetch some breakfast and meet you here, so--”

“Oh my _God_!” David hisses, slamming the door for real this time and rushing around the room. He can hear (presumably) Patrick’s car pulling up on the gravel outside, and this assumption is confirmed as he hears Stevie talking to him.

He tidies his bed, and rushes into the bathroom to take the quickest shower of his life. He’s barely gotten the conditioner into his hair when he hears the door of the motel room open and close, and some muted conversation taking place. He curses under his breath, and tries to speed up the process even further, simultaneously curious and horrified at what might be taking place on the other side of the door.

Finally, a short fifteen minutes later, he emerges from the bathroom looking comfortably perfect; his hair styled just that little bit off centre to prevent it from looking like he tried too hard and wearing a black sweater with the word Lover imprinted on the front in red writing.

He pauses as he takes in the room; Patrick is sat on his bed, talking animatedly with David’s Mom, and Alexis who is flittering about in her usual fashion in her running clothes.

He looks up when David enters, looking simultaneously bashful and excited, and stands up slowly.

“Hi, David.” He says softly.

“Hi, what are you doing here?”

“Well, Alexis let me in, I came to--”

This is where, if the Roses were a normal family, they would take their leave and give the pair some privacy. Instead, Moira latched on to the charged atmosphere with excitement.

“David,” she drawls, “Your entrepreneurial partner has arrived to take you away to your occupation. I’m assuming based on your expression of delight that this will be happening more often?”

David blinks, and frowns at her. “Yes, believe it or not, I will keep going to my job.”

“No need to be gratuitous, David. You know I was asking about this fresh, dewy partnership, that your father and I have the absolute pleasure of watching bloom, right in front of our eyes.”

Alexis titters from where she is stretching on a chair at the table, and David shoots her a glare.

“I- Um, I just came to offer you a lift to work, David.” Patrick says awkwardly, his hands behind his back. “We had a lot to drink last night and I thought you would appreciate--”

“He bought you _flowers_ , David.” Alexis exclaims, dropping into a lunge.

Patrick seems to flush even more red, if that were possible, and nods slightly. “Um, yes, I did. But I also brought you, um, _chocolate chip pancakes_. The speciality of Café Tropical.”

David grins and moves to accept the food package.

“Thank you for this.” He says, immediately taking a plastic fork and digging into the pancakes with reckless abandon. “Oh, and, um, these.”

He takes the flowers, and falters for a moment for somewhere to put them. Moira steps in, grinning at the pair with eager eyes as she takes the red carnations from her son and rushes away somewhere to find a vase.

“They were very nice, but I might never see them again.” David says sadly, as he watches her exit the room through the connecting door.

“Well, I can always get you some more.” Patrick replies, scrunching up his nose the way he usually does when he’s teasing but also being genuine at the same time. “I know it’s a bit earlier than usual, but do you want to head into work now?”

“Why would you do that, David hasn’t even finished his pancakes yet.” Alexis says slyly from where she is stood in front of the closet choosing an outfit for the day.

“Oh, I don’t need to--”

“He’ll get super moody if he doesn’t eat them now.” She continues.

“Well, that’s fine. Um, you can just--” Patrick sits back down on the bed, swallowing awkwardly as David sits at the table and continues to eat the pancakes.

“So, did you boys have a nice night out last night?” Alexis continues, regardless of David’s glare at her and his desperation for her to stop. “You got in late, and David was all happy the way he only usually is after a hook-up.”

“Okay, I’m done.” David exclaims, shoving in a huge mouthful and closing the lid. He grabs his day-bag from the floor and pulls Patrick up from his bed, pushing him towards the door. “Rot in hell, Alexis.”

“See you there.” She says back, waving with a limp hand.

Once outside he pauses and opens the take-away box to have another bite of his food. Patrick looks at him fondly. “You know, I didn’t mind waiting until you’d eaten those.”

“Mhm, but I did though, so…”

He finally finishes them, and shoves the container into a bin, before turning back to Patrick.

“Um- thank you for picking me up.” He says slowly, hesitating on the concrete as if waiting for something, but Patrick just nods. “And for the flowers, and breakfast.”

“It’s not a problem, David. I know how much we had to drink last night, and I figured if I didn’t come and get you myself then you probably wouldn’t come in at all.”

“Oh, okay.”

They climb into the car in awkward silence. Patrick is twitchy, and he keeps shifting in his seat as he drives, flexing and unflexing his hands, and biting his lip.

“Are you okay?” David asks, after he stops for just a moment too long at a stop sign.

“Hm? Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Um, well, we had a lot to drink, so maybe you’re hungover?”

Patrick shoots him a look that David can’t quite define. “I didn’t have that much to drink, David.”

“Oh, okay.” He tries to repress the small, secret smile that emerges at that, but based on Patrick’s facial expression, he isn’t successful.

Before long, they’re pulling up at the parking spot around the back of the store and clambering out; talk of work takes priority over the discussion they so clearly need to have, and they focus on conversation about vendors, and the necessity for a new scent of hand cream, and the expectations for the profits for the week.

It seems that the moment has passed, as there is no more mention of the previous night, as both men focus their attention on the store.

David breaks the comfortable working silence at around midday, when the store is finally empty of customers, and the two men take a moment to re-group and re-stock.

“Hey, I never asked, how is your finger? It’s not going to scar or anything, is it?”

Patrick laughs, and heads around the central display to where David is re-organising the body milks.

“See for yourself.” He says, holding out his hand where only a small white line marks the injury. “I think your kiss made it all better.” He jokes, as David takes his hand gently and holds it up to the light to examine it.

“That wouldn’t be the first time someone has said that to me.” David says haughtily, his eyes dancing with laughter as he runs a gentle finger over Patrick’s. “You’re right though, this looks fine.”

“Oh, really, Dr Rose? Is that your professional opinion?”

“I’ll have you know I’m a man of many talents.” David retorts easily, earning a derisive but fond snort from his business partner.

“Hm, I don’t doubt that.”

David raises his eyebrows in surprise and is about to counter with an equally as flirtatious statement, when Stevie rudely interrupts the moment.

“Good morning boys, I see you worked everything out then?”

They look down to see their hands are still tangled together, and both take a step back.

“I’m gonna go- do you want a coffee David?” Patrick asks, wiping his hands on his legs and already heading out the door. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Stevie watches him leave and then turns back to David, a guilty look on her face. “Or not, then? Sorry- I didn’t interrupt, did I?”

David sighs, “Nope, nothing to interrupt.”

Stevie scoffs at him and shakes her head, “You’re hopeless David. Did you not talk when he picked you up? He had flowers, David, I don’t think you buy flowers for just anyone.”

“Look, we both had a lot to drink last night, and nothing even happened, it was just a lot of drunk talk. It’s not like he actually meant what he said--”

“And what did he say?”

David groans, closing his eyes as his headache makes a re-appearance. “He said- he said he wanted to kiss me. Like, all the time.”

Stevie gapes at him, “He told you that, and then he brought you breakfast, and flowers, and gave you a lift to work, and you still haven’t--”

“What do you want me to do? It’s not like we get a moments peace in this town. My family are at the motel, and this is a business so it’s not like we can- What am I meant to do? Jump on him as soon as he walks back through the--”

The bell rings, and Patrick enters holding one drink, with an amused expression on his face.

“I see you didn’t get one for me- or for yourself?” Stevie asks, eying the coffee cup.

“Nope- Just for David.” Patrick answers, looking down at the coffee with a confused expression for a moment, as if surprised by his own actions, and then back up.

“Right, _well_. I know when I’m not wanted.” Stevie heads to the door, pulling a face at David once she’s safely behind Patrick’s back, before swinging out of the door. “Call me when you have news, David.”

David doesn’t bother with a retort, instead staring down at the coffee that has been pressed into his hands.

“Here you go. No jumping whilst you’re holding this- you don’t want to cause another accident.”

Patrick actually has the confidence to wink, as David stands there open-mouthed in shock, staring down at the drink.

He forces himself to focus back on his work as a group of women enter the store, and he puts all his attention on upselling them from hand cream, to full body moisturisers and luxury bath bombs. For the whole conversation he can feel Patrick’s eyes on him, causing his whole body to flush with heat. Whenever he looks up, Patrick doesn’t look away as he usually might, instead just raising an eyebrow or biting his lip, as if he knows exactly what he’s doing to David and has no intention to stop it.

Finally, the clock ticks its way to closing time, and David focuses on keeping his back to Patrick so that he can clear and tidy the store for the day.

Unfortunately, Patrick seems to have other ideas, as every time David turns, there he is, stretching to dust a top shelf, or bending to pick something off the floor. It’s very distracting.

“What are you doing?” He asks finally, when Patrick goes to collect the mop. “You don’t usually clean, are you done with the books already?”

“Yep. I’m not just a pretty face, David.”

At this, David flushes red and starts stuttering, but Patrick just walks towards him with an even expression on his face.

“I don’t- I didn’t, you are- I was, meant. I meant--”

He watches David grasp for something to say with an amused expression on his face. Finally, David gives up and sighs, his shoulders slumping forward in exhaustion.

“I’m going to- get the mop.” He mumbles, and for a moment it seems that Patrick will intervene. But instead, he just watches David with something like disappointment on his face.

“Are you hungry?” Patrick asks once all the chores are out of the way, and they are locking the front door. “We could get something to eat?”

“Um- I would, really, but I’m meant to be getting dinner with my family tonight.” David says with a wince. “My Dad wants to start family traditions and everything and I can’t bail.”

Patrick nods, looking understanding but still disappointed.

“Of course, David.”

David hesitates one more moment, before backing towards the café. “Have a good weekend.” He says quietly.

“You too, David.”

Their eyes stay locked together as David heads to the café, each waiting for the other to stop them. David is just about to turn around and head to dinner when Patrick shouts him.

“David- David, wait!”

He’s barely turned around before Patrick is on him, cupping his face with gentle hands, and hesitating at the last moment.

“Can I--”

David doesn’t let him finish that sentence. He grabs onto Patrick’s waist and pulls them together, so they are flush against each other. Finally, their lips meet in a tentative kiss. It takes a moment for them both to gain confidence, but Patrick does first, and he makes a little gasping noise before opening his mouth to run his tongue along the bottom of David’s.

They finally pull back, gasping for breath, and David stares at Patrick, his eyes wide with shock.

“Well now I really want to skip dinner.” Is all he can muster up, as he watches Patrick’s gaze drop back to his lips, and they lean in to kiss again; gentler this time, little more than a brush of lips.

“Mm, I’m _pretty_ sure that would be frowned upon.” Patrick says when he pulls away.

“Wow. You’re really forcing these out, aren’t you?”

“Well it’s true.”

David grins at that, looking upwards and away from Patrick as if searching for words.

“What?”

“You can’t just say things like that.”

“Like what, David? That you’re pretty?”

He makes a strangled noise, and leans as if to move away from Patrick, but he doesn’t let him. Instead, he steps back into his space and kisses him softly.

“You bought me flowers.” David breathes when they separate this time. “Nobody _ever_ bought me flowers before.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Maybe some Roses at some point, but that’s so tacky and apology flowers don’t count.”

“The flowers had a card on them.” Patrick says, so quietly you could almost miss it.

“What--”

Suddenly, a loud banging on the café window jolts them out of their conversation. Both men step back from their embrace with a jolt and turn to see Alexis leaning down to peek below the curtain.

“I should go to dinner.” David says slowly, still not moving.

“Okay, David.”

Patrick is just about to step back when David grips at his arms again and pulls him back for another kiss, which leaves him dazed and disoriented.

“One more for the road.” He mumbles, kissing David one final time before taking a decisive step back. “Go to dinner, David.”

“Will you pick up if I call you tonight?”

Patrick grins. “I’ll pick up whenever you call, David. And if I don’t, then I will _always_ listen to your voicemails.”

He scowls as he heads into the café, but his eyes are smiling. “I’ll call you then?”

“Bye David.”

***

After a long dinner of dodging questions not only from his family, but also from the Schitt’s, who were sat by the window, as well as the rest of Schitt’s Creek who all are apparently privy to David’s private life, they finally arrive back at the motel.

His parents head straight to their room, whilst Alexis disappears into the bathroom, and David heads to sit on his bed.

On the bedside, the flowers from that morning have been carefully cut and arranged into a small glass jar. The note has been elegantly placed directly in David’s line of sight, as if his mother has made sure that he won’t miss it.

He picks it up with suspicious eyes, unfolding it, and looking down to see Patrick’s familiar scrawl.

_This may be forward but I think you’re pretty perfect to me David Rose._   
_With every affection, Patrick._

He grins to himself, letting his emotions get the better of him for just a moment, before digging in the pockets of his jeans for his phone and dialling Patrick’s number.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did as everyone requested and added some kissing- I hope it lived up to your expectations!
> 
> Let me know what you thought! I really hope people liked it, and thank you for reading and commenting and leaving kudos!
> 
> ❤️


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